Warriors and Paladins
by Saelix
Summary: Kalunaa was a veteran of Northrend. She had seen the Blue Dragonflight's leader fall, had taken Ulduar with the Horde, and had watched as Terenas Menethil held his son in the final moments of Arthas' painful life. Finding a lost mage was nothing. Right?
1. Kalunaa

**Warriors And Paladins**

I WILL END YOU ELF!

Kalunaa dodged easily as the human's sword came crashing down. He swung wildly; his stance betrayed his fear, his lack of discipline. She had to respect his attempt to intimidate her – clearly he wasn't a recruit.

But neither was she.

Kalunaa was a warrior, and a fierce one at that. Her figure as a Blood Elf belied her physical strength, augmented by her ability to channel her rage into power in battle. Many had been foolish enough to mistake the slender elf for an easy kill. None had succeeded. Few had survived. Those lucky enough to do so bore scars that would forever remind them of the day they underestimated her.

The human swung again.

As she sidestepped, she focused in on him. He swung with his arms, rather than his back. It threw his balance off. His two handed weapon was much too heavy for his small figure. He would be better suited to the daggers of a Rogue, or even the ways of a Mage than of a Warrior or a Paladin – she wasn't sure which he was. Not that it made any difference.

Another swing, and another dodge. Compounding the poor form was his fear. She could smell it; Could hear it in his voice as he yelled at her. His mistake had been to covet an herb that had been nearby as the Warrior sat mounted on a hill, trying to decide if her path to Dalaran would take her through the Trolls before her, or if she wanted to avoid a useless battle enough to go around. A useless battle was what she had now. One she would end quickly, once she decided to. But she hadn't decided to yet. No, this human was no recruit. But he was no veteran either. He still had a harsh lesson to learn about picking his fights. His herb would be his undoing.

Those who swing from fear do not swing well. In time he would make his mistake.

She saw it before he felt it – a simple root, almost hidden in the snow. His last swing would be his wildest, as his fear and poor posture were compounded by what little balance he had leaving him completely as his foot twisted over the root. He went down, sword falling to the snow nearby, and she was on him in a flash, her own two hander carving a long gash up his arm, splitting his feeble armor up the side. Blood poured from the wound as she held the blade to his neck.

He no longer feigned strength, or courage. His words were broken as he stuttered in a language she knew well, but would pretend not to understand. His eyes betrayed his thoughts as he prepared for his life to end.

But she would not end it. Kalunaa had known war her entire life. She was fierce, and when she had to be, merciless, but she would not end a life if she did not have to, even one of the Alliance. She had seen enough lives ended over useless battles.

She slid her sword to his neck, but rather than pierce it, she lifted his head to meet her eyes. Words were not necessary, even if he could have understood her. His gaze as he saw her face told her that he understood, and had learned his lesson well. She turned and began to walk away, not even bothering to look back to ensure he made no further rush.

The human was overcome by relief. The last thing he saw before he blacked out was the heel of her boot as it landed squarely, purposefully on his herb.


	2. Corveau

**Warriors and Paladins**

Kalunaa shivered as the cold bit through her armor. Zul'Drak was not the coldest place on Azeroth, but surely it must have been close.

Her armor was lined with the fur of beasts that had been unlucky enough to wander across her path. She was hesitant to end the life of someone with a home, and a family, but she had no qualms about slaying a Bear or a Rhino for its fur, or meat, or even as a way to work off the leftover rage from a battle.

In fact, as she looked down upon the trolls and pondered her path forward for a second time, working off excess rage didn't sound like such a bad idea after all.

The bitter cold wind blew again.

No, these trolls would not see her blade today. She would go around. She drew the reins of her mount to the side, motioning for him to move. The weather – currently just short of a blizzard – prevented her from utilizing her hippogryph, which would have rendered the troll problem moot anyways. Such was life. She was in no hurry.

As the sun began to set, she continued her journey through Zul'Drak. She would soon be farther south, away from Gun'Drak and its snow. Once she was, the hippogryph would be available again, and after a night's camp with the Argent Crusaders who called Lights Breach home, she would be a mere day's flight away from Dalaran.

She strode into the camp and dismounted, walking to the table where the officer stood. He recognized her almost immediately.

"Kal! We're glad to see you here!" The Captain was a stout man who knew the scourge and its ways well.

"Thank you Captain Donovan. It's good to see Light's Breach still standing strong."

Kalunaa was a quiet person, but those who knew her were aware of her friendliness. She would move mountains to help friends when she could, and the Captain was just that.

"What's brought you out to Zul'Drak? I thought you hated this place?"

Kalunaa stifled a laugh. "There are very few places in Northrend that I don't hate Donovan. But Zul'Drak has something the other places don't – Gun'Drak."

In truth, there was only one place in Northrend that Kalunaa enjoyed, other than Dalaran. The Storm Peaks showed its titan architecture on full display to those courageous enough to venture deep into the mountains, but those who did were rewarded with a sight unlike any other. The towering constructs lit up with every lightning flash, and the temples – home of the Titan Keepers of Ulduar themselves – were constructed atop mountains, and surrounded by buildings from the complex.

No place on Azeroth held such majesty, such raw danger and adventure as the Storm Peaks. No place on Azeroth made Kalunaa feel so…small. It wasn't a feeling she was used to. Perhaps that's why she loved being among the clouds, so high up that the ground was no longer visible.

Regardless, she was in Zul'Drak now. Geographically close to the peaks, the feeling of disgust that the mixture of trolls and scourge gave her was perhaps as far away from it as could be.

"Ah, so you got the Gun'Drak assignment then?" The Captain looked at her with a mixture of sadness and boyish tease.

"That must have been fun".

"It was a real treat". Kalunaa flicked a stone in the Captain's direction as he enjoyed a laugh at her expense.

Gun'Drak was home to a group of trolls that – other than their race – bore no resemblance to the Darkspear tribe, or any other "civilized" tribe. They were uncivilized, and uneducated, which put them just above the wildlife in terms of importance, a fact which was easily overlooked if not for two things.

First, they were evil. They practiced dark magic, murdered their own gods, and corrupted the land around them. And second, they were dying and being resurrected as Scourge. Unfortunately for them, this meant they were on the Crusade's list for "purification". More unfortunately for them, at the request of a short-staffed Tirion Fordring, Kalunaa was the purifier.

But that was done now. Kalunaa wished her friend a good night, and retreated to an empty tent to await the morning sun, or the sound of a scourge attack, whichever came first.

As it turned out, it would be the sun. Or what little of it got through the plagued haze that this forsaken land always had over it.

She rose early, left a part of her reward for Donovan as payment, and breathed calmly as she felt her hippogryph rise above the haze, breathing in fresh air for the first time in days. The cold stung her lungs, but in a refreshing way. It wasn't bitter as it was the day before, but rather it was awakening. She traveled quicker than she expected, and before too long the purple spires of Dalaran came into view.

Setting down gently in Krasus' Landing, she dismounted and made her way down into the main streets of Dalaran. It was a beautiful, magical city, one in which something was always happening. The Kirin Tor mages were high-strung, and while she disliked almost every one of them she had ever met, she had to admit they knew how to build a city. It was _floating_ for lights sake.

She continued through the streets to a spot on one of the walls, which was hardly noticeable to those who didn't know it was there. Ducking inside, she headed down to the sewers – her home away from home. The Dalaran sewers smelled not of filth, but of magic. Different from anywhere else, these sewers were merely an extension of the upper city. One where those who did not wish to be bothered could exist in solitude.

It didn't take long for her to reach her destination, a comfortable little inn below the surface where she usually had a room available upon request. This time was no different in that regard. Before heading to her room, she decided to pause at the bar for a drink. Something warm – she hadn't tasted warmth in almost two weeks.

It was just as the bartender served it up that a Paladin crashed down into the seat next to her, exhausted.

"What's in the mug?"

Kalunaa eyed him curiously, and it didn't take her long to decide that he was simply trying to be friendly.

"Honeymint Tea."

He smiled at her, a large, toothy grin that preceded the revelation of his true intent.

"A strong drink for a strong Warrior eh?" He delivered the line flawlessly, and immediately realized it's failure.

Inwardly, she rolled her eyes.

Was he looking to get knocked out?

"Corveau the Blood Knight, at your service."

She smiled at him. His pickup lines may be terrible, but at least he was friendly.

"Kalunaa, _the strong Warrior_, at yours".

He visibly cringed at the remark.

She decided mercifully not to push his embarrassment.

"So Corveau, what brings you to Dalaran?"

"I'm just heading out, actually. Tomorrow. A mage of the Kirin Tor has gone missing in the Storm Peaks and I've been asked to look into it. They've given him up for dead – rather easily if you ask me – but who am I to turn down a worried family?"

Her lack of interest in the conversation was briefly dispelled at the mention of the Storm Peaks.

"I see. Do you know where he was last seen?"

He seemed to think carefully for a moment.

"I believe the arch mage mentioned the Engine of the Makers – something about a search for evidence of iron dwarf activity in the area."

She frowned slightly. She didn't know much about this Paladin other than what she could see. And what she could see was that he was clumsy, his armor was pitiful, and his knowledge of the situation lacking.

Surely he would get himself killed.

"Have you ever been to the Storm Peaks, Corveau?"

"Well, no. But I've heard it's amazing."

"It is. It's also very dangerous. Have you considered that if a Mage of the Kirin Tor could not survive there, you might not do so well either?"

For the first time, he seemed to stop and think about the situation.

"N-no. I hadn't thought of that. But I can't back out now, his family is counting on me. What if he's alive and I don't go?"

She sighed. She already knew where this was headed, and she almost, _almost_ regretted saying anything to him because of it.

"Hey, you sound like you've been before. Why don't you come with me! You can show me around and _maybe _I'll show you a thing or two about fighting!"

Kalunaa almost snorted.

"You know what Corveau? I think I'll take you up on that."

If nothing else it would be entertaining, and a chance for another adventure, however short it might be. And she could probably keep the fool alive.

"Great! We leave tomorrow. Meet me here." He seemed somewhat relieved.

She smirked to herself as she made her way back to street level. The situation was almost comical. Still, she would have to have a few quick repairs to her armor. The cold in the Storm Peaks was much worse than in Zul'Drak.

Passing through Runeweaver Square, her eye caught the statue. It wasn't a bad statue really. It didn't bother her. Tirion Fordring looked very imposing in gold, after all. As she remembered it – and she remembered it well – he didn't look nearly as good in ice. But what had happened that day could never be truly revealed, and so the world saw a statue of Tirion Fordring, rather than of her and her allies.

And truth be told, she didn't mind that at all.

* * *

**A/N**: Cheers. It's my first attempt at writing anything resembling a story, ever, so reviews and critiques are welcome. I'll try to update reasonably often, but I don't know when that will be. Chances are this will end up pretty lengthy.


	3. Welcome to the Storm Peaks

**Warriors and Paladins**

Kalunaa woke up the next morning before life in the city began to pick up. She rolled over and climbed out of bed, strolling to a mirror on the wall. As she stared into it, the stories of her life stared back, played out in the form of scars that crossed her body.

These scars weren't disfiguring, at least not to those who understood the origins of battle scars. These scars were liberating. They told stories of a life outside the comforts of home and a city; of battles versus enemies not weak, but strong. Enemies strong enough to claim a part of her, even in defeat. The most telling scar ran up her chest, from just under her neck on the right side to the top of her shoulder across the left. Quietly, she ran a finger along it as she thought back to the day it was given to her.

* * *

"_Oi! She's comin' down lads!"_

_The Iron Protodrake roared again as another harpoon shot into her side. Razorscale was born out of anger, hatred, and pure pain as the iron plates were fused onto her scales by Ignis, and she would die in pain at the hands of the Horde and Brann Bronzebeard's dwarves. But not before she took as many of them with her as possible._

_Slowly, methodically, the dwarves began to crank the harpoon guns._

"_Tha's it boys, jus' like reelin' in a fish. A huge, screaming, flying, iron fish. Tha' breaths fire, an' has claws, an –" _

"_Oh shut up already an' help!"_

_Kalunaa watched the dwarves with half an eye on the drake. Her and her friends would have their part to play very soon. First, however, these dwarves had to overcome their dysfunction and get that thing down._

"_Ok then, here…she…COMES!"_

_With a final crank, the drake gave up resisting and instead chose to plunge to the ground. She landed with a screech causing the dwarves to scatter, and immediately incinerated everything in front of her, which fortunately was nothing more than a few remaining iron dwarves._

"_GO!" Kalunaa motioned to a nearby Tauren and the group fanned out. Fireballs mixed with arrows as the ranged component wasted no time beginning their attack. A shaman infused the group with bloodlust, and with unrivaled fury they bore down on first one, and then the other of her wings, ensuring that she would not return to the sky. At this, Kalunaa took her cue. Charging toward the drake, she immediately made herself the largest threat to draw its attention. _

_Her normal sword was replaced with a smaller one, and a shield, and she used them expertly, blocking debris that flew her way and dodging claws twice her size that could have crushed her at the first mistake._

_A huge claw came crashing down next to her, just missing as she rolled to her side. Quickly, she drove her sword deep into it, seizing the chance. Using it as leverage, she jumped onto the drake's claw and began slowly climbing up the attached arm. _

_Razorscale roared in fury, twisting wildly trying to shake the small elf away. With each twist of the drake, Kalunaa found another spot higher to driver her sword, another spot to climb to that was closer to the head. She was almost there._

_Suddenly, the Proto-drake shifted, driving her entire side into a nearby pillar with a screech of desperation. Forced to jump, Kalunaa landed squarely on her feet. She would have to start over. _

"_Damn"_

_Razorscale turned to face her, eyes aflame with hatred and a seething determination that matched the Elf's own. She roared again, lowering her maw and opening it wide. Recognizing the coming breath of flame, Kalunaa rolled to the side just in time. But something was wrong._

_The drake had learned. Even before Kalunaa made her move, she realized her mistake._

_Immediately as she rolled onto her back, the huge claw came down to pin her. Razorscale wasted no time, roaring directly down on the helpless elf. With all of her might into the shield, she held the huge claw off from crushing her, but there was little she could do against the fury of Razorscale's bite. The drake clamped her jaw down on Kalunaa's arm, twisting the shield away and bringing her claw down in full force. Kalunaa seized the moment to roll again, just in time to prevent her death, but not before the drake tore a gash under her neck that spouted blood like a fountain. _

_Finally, her companions were able to draw Razorscale's attention. Her arm limp, and her body soaked in her own blood, the warrior crawled back from the action to find a healer. It took all three of them. She would live, but she would bear the scar of her misjudgment forever._

* * *

The memory played out as clearly as if she were there again. Slowly her gaze drifted to her armor. Hanging from the belt was the fragment of a faded iron scale. This mark was one of victory.

She didn't regret the scar. Scars were the price of the life she had chosen. Hers were unique. They were trophies of her victories, and her defeats. They flowed with the curves of her body and they ran against it. Her scars would be with her always, to lend their stories when she needed a reminder of who she was, and what she knew after a lifetime of conflict. And she was glad to have them.

Picking up her armor, she eyed the repairs that had been made to it. An extra layer of fur had been added. It would keep her warm; there was no doubt about that. She was grateful for the fact. She slipped each piece on slowly, taking the time to adjust it as needed. She had learned that while it was tedious, uncomfortable armor could be a costly burden in battle.

Dressed, she grabbed her sword and slung it onto her back before making her way out of the room she had hoped to see longer than just one night. Corveau was patiently waiting at the same spot he had found her in last night.

"I thought we could grab a quick drink before we go. Here" He handed her a cup of something warm.

She smirked in recognition.

"Honeymint Tea. How thoughtful."

Sipping it slowly, she took in her new companion for the first time.

He was large, and he had a telling glow about him, even for a Paladin. His specialization would be Holy, then. His armor was tattered, telling of someone who came unprepared to Northrend. It would do, but he would be cold, and vulnerable. His first trip to the Storm Peaks would be memorable, for many of the wrong reasons - if he survived.

"Ready then?" She asked him, finishing off the last sip of tea.

"As ready as I'll be. How do we get there?"

Good grief. He didn't even know how to get there?!

"We fly. Northeast."

He frowned. Corveau hated flying. He couldn't say that though. He desperately needed this reward. It could get him new armor, and a reputation boost required to get more lucrative assignments. Plus, he didn't want to annoy the Warrior into leaving. She looked good, in more ways than one.

A short time later they were in the air, Kalunaa in front, and Corveau behind, trying to hide his displeasure. Their flight took them over the Violet Gate, and through the greater portion of Crystalsong Forest. It looked incredible from the air. Or it would have, if he had been watching.

Kalunaa was already debating turning back. This Paladin had no armor, didn't know where he was, or where he was headed, what he was looking for, and clearly he couldn't handle such simple things as flying. She was not a babysitter.

The flying problem would quickly become a nonissue. As they approached the Storm Peaks, it became clear that the weather would not permit flight. Not safely at least. She wanted to get through the first fifteen minutes without him falling to his death, so they landed nearby and moved to their ground mounts. The journey continued uneventfully for the next hour as Crystalsong disappeared behind them, but just as things started to look easy, she began to sense a new tension in the air. Something was wrong.

A high-pitched cackle sounded out, followed shortly by an arrow flying towards her.

Kalunaa tumbled off her mount into a fighting stance, scanning her surroundings. She knew that laugh.

Gnolls.

She hated Gnolls. They weren't very dangerous, but they were vile, they were annoying, and they traveled in packs.

Another arrow zipped past them. Corveau called out to her through the snow from his mount, panicked. Cursing, she rushed towards him. He would be a sitting duck. Angrily she grabbed him by the cloak and pulled him backwards into the snow, just as an arrow pierced the spot he would have been in a second before.

"What the hell is wrong with you?! Get DOWN!"

Corveau seemed to jolt awake, as he nodded and then set his gaze on the shadows moving among the snow.

The blizzard parted just long enough to let her see a vague silhouette, but it was all she needed. Charging through the blizzard, she brought her sword through the air towards what turned out to be a very surprised gnoll.

His companions saw him fall and cackled again, rushing towards her. Like the human in Zul'Drak, the gnolls swung wildly. She expertly dodged each blow, watching for any telltale signs of weakness. The gnolls were wild, but they did not show the same fear as he had. They had much more control of their weapons.

A third gnoll joined his allies now, surrounding the Elf entirely. This one had a spear, which he used to jab at her teasingly. Unfazed, she parried his jabs as she watched for her opening. Almost as if in slow motion, she spotted it.

A charging mammoth.

As it trumpeted it's fury at the gnolls, they jumped back, but too late. The mammoth hit the group like a bomb, sending gnolls flying. Kalunaa was prepared, and she dove to her right, catching the spear in her hand and planting it firmly in the back of its owner as he landed.

The next gnoll charged her again, his anger taking over at the loss of his allies. Her plated boot came up, connecting squarely with his jaw and knocking him cleanly onto his back before her sword found its mark, directly in his chest.

The third gnoll rose to see his companions dead, and decided to run for it just as the mammoth rounded on him again, landing a giant foot on his back, crushing him. When the beast turned again to look for the Warrior, she was gone, faded into the snow.

Another Cackle sounded along with a masculine shout. She moved towards the sound of fighting. What she saw certainly surprised her.

Corveau had two of his own gnolls dead already, and he ran his sword through a third just as Kalunaa saw him. With surprising skill, he cast a spell of holy radiance, illuminated his entire surroundings, showing two remaining gnolls. A holy judgment finished off one, and as he turned to the next, he spotted Kalunaa. The gnoll, unaware of both the Warrior's presence, and his comrade's fates, charged the Paladin. He would make it halfway there, as he was blindsided by a giant sword piercing him cleanly from one side through to the other. The fight was over.

It wasn't a bad way to welcome Corveau to the Storm Peaks.

She strolled over to him, quickly regaining her breath.

"I was beginning to think you couldn't fight."

He shrugged. "I also make a good night light."

He leaned down to wipe his bloodied sword in the snow, unable to see the mischievous grin his partner now held.

She handed him the reins to his Hawkstrider, taking those of her tiger herself. As he noticed her face, he got a look of confusion.

"What? Did I get blood on my face?"

She laughed as they mounted. "None at all. Let's go Nightlight. K3 is just ahead."

"Th-That is NOT my name!" He cried desperately, terrified at the new idea he had planted in her head.

"Whatever you say, Nightlight."

She grinned. This was going to be fun after all.

* * *

**A/N:**

Thanks for the reviews! There's some silly 24 hour lock before I can respond to them, so I'll just do it here.


	4. How to Deal With Goblins

**Warriors and Paladins**

As the night dwindled on, Kalunaa and Corveau inevitably found themselves bored. It was snowing heavily, which meant they could not fly further into the Storm Peaks, but it was still too early to sleep. They were in K3, and that meant one thing: Goblins.

Kalunaa had always thought they were strange creatures. She didn't understand their infatuation with wealth. Money was merely a tool to her. One she needed for food, armor, and other various expenses, but beyond the question of whether or not she could afford what little she desired, it had no value to her.

To Corveau, sitting in his scraps of armor with little protection from the cold, it was perhaps the opposite, which was precisely why he was now sitting at a table with another goblin playing cards.

Anyone with half a brain knew you just didn't bet a goblin. They cheat, they steal, and if somehow you manage to overcome that and beat them, they still might not pay. If you don't like it? Well, the Bruisers can show you the way out. Leave your money on the table.

Kalunaa spared a glance in the direction of her ally long enough to determine that he wasn't at risk of irritating the Bruisers, though he would probably lose his bracers by the end of it. She decided to put her time to good use.

Strolling outside, she quickly found the inn. Moving up to the bar, the promise of a potential customer brought the bartender calling in no time. His voice was raspy and high pitched, and he spoke quickly, eager to get to the payment part of the transaction.

"What can I do for ya? Tea? Coco? Somethin' a bit stronger?"

She smiled and leaned in.

"I'm looking for something else." She said quietly.

The goblin raised an eyebrow curiously.

"Oh?"

This was a game she knew well, and had planned for. There are facts of life about dealing with Goblins that she had come to learn a very long time ago.

First, if you want something from a Goblin, expect to pay. Second, if you want the truth, expect to pay more. Or catch them when there are no Bruisers around to protect them. And third, never show a goblin that you have gold until you know he'll give you what you want. They get greedy. And a goblin usually gets what he wants.

She took a small pouch from her pocket and set it on the counter, allowing the Goblin a very good look at it. "What I need tonight is information."

The Goblin's eyes never left the pouch.

"What information is that? Maybe I can help ya out…for a price."

Easier than usual, she thought. A goblin normally wouldn't even tell you that they knew anything unless you paid up.

K3 was the gateway to the Storm Peaks, and the first stop of virtually everyone who traveled there. It was safe to assume he had been through.

"A mage from the Kirin Tor came through here some time ago." She stated slowly. "He was headed deeper into the peaks somewhere. I would like to know where."

The Goblin raised his eyes up.

"How much is it worth to ya?"

Kalunaa twirled the strings of the money pouch around her fingers gently and sighed audibly.

"I suppose I could give you this."

The Goblin grinned and held out his hand.

"Deal!"

She pulled back slightly.

"Not yet. Speak first."

Scowling, the Goblin began to talk.

"He was heading North. Somethin' about checkin' up on Cortus or Crator or whatever his name was. I don't remember nothin' else."

Smirking, she tossed him the empty pouch and got up. She didn't want to take advantage of him, but she knew the game well. There was still another round to be played.

"HEY! Wait just a minute!"

Turning with her best smile, she looked back to him. "Is there a problem?"

"There's nothin' in here!" He said angrily, throwing the pouch to the ground.

She tried hard to suppress her laugh.

"No, I don't remember saying there would be."

The Goblin quickly realized he had been cheated.

"Why you litt-"

She cut him off, deciding she had better steer the conversation before he called a Bruiser over.

"I don't believe there's anything you have that I value enough to pay for it with gold. Unless…is there anything else about our Kirin Tor friend you remember?"

The goblin went from seething to friendly in an instant. He seemed to be thinking hard, trying to remember more.

"Well now that you mention it, I think there is." He let out a crazed chuckle before turning serious again. " But first...5 gold, and I wanna see it this time."

He was determined not to be fooled twice. So be it, they were getting to what she wanted now anyways. She pulled out a few gold coins and held them up.

"He said Dalaran was worried about a resurgence in Iron Dwarf activity. The Kirin Tor thought they were done after Ulduar, but there's been a few strange things happ'nin lately. They sent him to check it out. Gold." He held out his hand expectantly.

She smirked as she gave him the coins before heading back to the little house where they had found a room. Corveau was angrily arguing with the goblin he had been betting earlier. It seemed the goblin had been caught cheating, to no one's surprise. Lucky for him, the Bruiser from earlier was gone. That meant he got his armor back.

She collected him and told him what she knew before sending him to his own lodgings to sleep. They would need rest if they were to head to the Engine of the Makers and speak to Creteus tomorrow. She had seen him once before, a lonely titan construct. She didn't know his purpose, but right now he could help them find the Mage.

The room was simple, quiet, and tiny. It would do for the night however. As sleep began to overtake her, images of Ulduar ran through her head. She had loved the complex. It held so much mystery and awe, even with the danger.

She wondered if Brann had ever found what he was looking for there.


	5. He Had to Live

**Warriors and Paladins**

Kalunaa rose later than usual to find the storm was still blowing, but had subsided enough to allow travel by flight. It would do – they had to make it deeper into the Storm Peaks by air, but once they got beyond the cliffs, they could retreat to the ground again if they needed to.

Mounting up, she gave the hippogryph a gentle nudge with her foot and felt the familiar rush as he soared upwards. Corveau made an uncomfortable moan. She would have to listen to it. He didn't know where he was going, he couldn't fly, and they were in the middle of a snowstorm, so they had decided that he would ride with Kalunaa for safety.

The snow bit her cheeks as it hit her, but the fur lining kept the rest of her body warm. The snowy plains stretched out below them as K3 disappeared into the blizzard. As time carried on, their pace felt like a crawl. Each change of direction in the wind threatened to disorient them entirely. Far below them, Kalunaa caught a small glimpse, just a hint of the dark wooden roofs of Brunnhildar Village. Good; they were not lost yet.

The storm was picking up again, so she decided they needed to land. Rising farther and farther up, she strained her eyes searching for the top of the cliff that would be their landing spot. As the ice swirled around them, she continued to search, but the blizzard was making it impossible to see more than a short distance in any direction. Slowly, she became aware of something other than snow surrounding them in the air. They were just shadows at first. Vague silhouettes hiding behind the curtain of sleet.

With each flash of lightning, the shadows were illuminated. Slowly the realization of their movements dawned on her, and as it did, she knew they had to land and find shelter, fast. But as she saw the ground, it was too late. The shadow flapped it's wings one last time in mystery before coming into view – a full sized icy blue adult proto-drake.

The roar was nearly drowned out by the howling wind, but the elements did nothing to protect them from the drake's claws. It blazed towards them with a speed enhanced by the icy cold atmosphere, clawing at them as they hovered. The talons missed their mark, but the impact of the huge claw knocked both Kalunaa and Corveau cleanly off the hippogryph and sent them plummeting. She saw the tops of the trees first, and then the ground. As she prepared for the impact, her mind raced, looking for a way to avert their certain death.

Suddenly, she felt the wind stop. There was no more snow. No more ice. No more sound. She was in a bubble of peace, and while the world outside raged, she floated serenely to the ground and landed with a pop, cleanly on her feet, unfazed.

Kalunaa was speechless. It wasn't until she saw the falling light that she understood. Corveau. The Holy Paladin. As his own bubble planted him firmly on the ground, he lost his footing and fell to a knee, exhausted already. A glance told her that he would be ok – his energy had gone into securing their safety from the fall, and he had done just that. It was storming, they were cold, and tired, and they had a hungry proto-drake bearing down on them from the sky, but he had given them a chance to survive, and survival was what she did best.

The drake landed nearby and reared its head back, flapping its wings slowly to settle onto its feet. Kalunaa turned to it and pulled the sword off of her back, preparing to charge. The drake would make the first move, firing a breath of frost towards where she stood. Kalunaa dodged it nimbly, her mind racing, looking for a point of attack on her enemy.

It was big. Too big to hack down. She had to get to the head. Or the gut. Either spot was vulnerable on proto drakes. Neither one was easy.

As the drake charged, he used his giant head as a ram, plowing through the snow towards the two elves. Again Kalunaa rolled, landing on her feet a short distance away. She turned to watch for its next move, but was surprised to find it still charging. Surely it had seen her.

That was when she realized she wasn't his target.

Corveau staggered to his feet and turned just as the drake hit him. He flew backwards as if he were nothing. Kalunaa raced towards him as the beast brought his claws down, shredding the useless armor in an instant. Her mind in overdrive, she found her spot as the drake left its tail planted on the ground behind it. Seizing the opportunity, she jumped from one large scale to the next, bolting up onto its back.

At the feeling of something on top of it, the drake returned to the other half of the battle and spun wildly. It was attempting to fling her onto the ground where it could do the same to her as it had to the helpless Paladin, who now lay motionless on a pile of increasingly red snow.

Unwilling to let it return its attention to Corveau, she planted her sword firmly in the back of the drake's neck. It had the desired effect as it screeched in pain before bowing down, flopping on the ground in agony. With the drake's fury subsiding, she made her work complete with a final thrust of the great sword, severing the beast's head entirely and ending its misery.

Wasting no time, she jumped down and ran to her companion. He wasn't dead yet, but he was close, and if they didn't get away from the storm and the rest of the drakes, he would be very soon.

Lifting him over her shoulders, she scanned her surroundings for any sign of shelter. Proto-drakes – blue ones. That meant they were in the Foote Steppes. And she knew the direction they had come from was south. Good. The mountains were east of them, then. Lifting Corveau over the top of her tiger, she jumped on and they took off at blistering speed. By some miracle of luck, they found a cave sooner rather than later.

_This cave…she recognized this cave. This was where she had first met Brann. No...An image of Brann, back when he was still chasing after the secrets of the Titans. _

_That day had set everything in motion. Her exploration of the temples, her trips to Ulduar…the Halls of Stone…Halls of Lightning. That day had set her on a path to delve into the depths of the giant Titan complex, and take on Thorim…Mimiron…Algalon…_

_But now was not the time for memories._

Setting him down on the rock floor, she took a moment to gather nearby firewood and get a blaze going. His injuries were bad, but the heat was crucial for both of them. Tearing off what remained of his armor – little more than scraps – she saw his wounds for the first time.

The drake had planted one talon cleanly through his shoulder to pin him, and the other looked like it had shredded one of his legs. It was a stroke of good fortune that she had been able to draw his attention, because the next move surely would have been with its teeth.

Bandaging the wounds as best she could, she settled him near the fire. Thinking of her own scars, she considered the situation. It was bad, but it wasn't unhealable. If she could keep him alive long enough for him to wake up, he could take care of the worst of it himself, and the rest would heal in time.

With little else to do, she sat down to the fire and listened to the cold wind howl just outside the cave.

This was her fault. He likely would not have come here if not for her agreeing to help. She thought back to that conversation.

"_You can show me around and maybe I'll show you a thing or two about fighting!"_

She had agreed to lead him to a death trap, and for what? Wanting to make him eat his words? Never before had Kalunaa felt this low.

She gave him a worried look. He would live. He had to live. He was clumsy, foolish, inexperienced, and undergeared, but this was the Paladin who held his own against Gnolls of the storm peaks. Who found a way to save them both from certain death as they fell, before Kalunaa even had time to realize what had happened. He would live. He had to.

Didn't he?

* * *

**A/N:**

Wow, I really didn't think I would get this many views and this much support. Thanks! I've been going back and revising minor bits of each chapter, making it flow a bit cleaner. The story remains mostly unchanged, but various parts are a bit smoother I think.

Cheers!


	6. The Light

**Warriors and Paladins**

Corveau knew that he was alive. But this wasn't like being alive. What was this? It was dark all around him. He searched for something, anything that he could recognize to tell him where he was. A flower, a cloud, the sound of the snow falling, or maybe, dare he hope, his Warrior companion. But there was only darkness.

Darkness, except for one faint light.

A single beam at first, but slowly it grew. As if it were walking towards him, or peeking out from its hiding place. As he watched, it materialized into a being that Corveau, as a Paladin of the Light, recognized immediately. Something he had seen before; a Naaru.

He had only seen a Naaru twice before. The first time was in Silvermoon. The Blood Elves, under orders from the wayward prince Kael'thas, had captured M'uru. Slowly they had sapped M'uru's power; had tainted him, and corrupted him. Not on purpose, but as a side effect of their desire to steal the light for themselves. He understood their misjudgment by now. How foolish it was of them to think that one could _steal_ the power of the light.

And yet here he stood. He recalled what he had said to Kalunaa when he met her. "_Corveau, the Blood Knight, at your service."_ He had used that term…_Blood Knight_… like it was some grand title. Perhaps this Naaru had come to exact the light's vengeance upon him at his time of judgment.

Corveau continued his thoughts.

The second time he had seen a Naaru was in the City of Light, Shattrath. He had always felt partial to Outland and Shattrath in particular. The world was torn, a shadow of its former self. It had produced the monstrous Orcs and was overrun by the Burning Legion, and yet, it felt to him as if he belonged there. Cleansing the land, and fighting the demons.

At the center of Shattrath was A'dal, a being of pure light. From his position, and through Khadgar at his side, A'dal choreographed the retaking of Tempest Keep, the defeat of the Burning Legion and Kil'jaden himself on the Isle of Quel'danas, and the redemption of the…_Blood Knights_…and M'uru afterward.

The thought brought a sense of happiness to Corveau. Perhaps the term wasn't so shameful after all. It was who they were. The Light was not given to them, it was taken by them, but in allowing them to think themselves its master, it had taught the Blood Elves how to wield it properly, for justice rather than power.

Corveau turned his attention back to the light in front of him. The Naaru were patient. This one knew his thoughts. It waited as he came to terms with himself before speaking. When it spoke, it wasn't through audible sound as Kalunaa spoke to him, but through a soothing voice in his head.

"_You have come far in the light. Your journey is at a crossroads."_

Corveau waited patiently, curiously for the Naaru to continue.

"_You lie broken in a cave in the mortal realm."_

At these words, the darkness around Corveau faded ever so slightly and he saw his body. He saw it wrapped in bandages. He saw the blood covering his shoulder and the worried look on Kalunaa's face as she sat by the fire gazing across to him.

"_You may return, if you wish. You will feel pain. Your life will see hardship, and one day the choice to live will no longer be yours to make, and you will return to this place for the judgment that faces all. But you will carry the light and its message with you always. The pain will be the pain of growing; of spreading justice and purity to those who would otherwise not taste its fires."_

Suddenly the darkness faded completely and he saw only happiness. Corveau saw his parents, who had died so many years ago at the hands of Arthas. Arthas…that was why Corveau had become a Paladin. He knew Kalunaa knew the pain of their race. Perhaps she shared some comfort, like him, in knowing that Arthas was now dead by Tirion Fordring's own hand with the help of his unknown allies.

He sensed the Naaru's voice again.

"_You may stay if you wish. There will be no more pain. The light you would deliver to the world will be lost forever. One day perhaps another may bear its justice to those fated to meet it, but that is not for us to know. You will know true happiness; all your troubles will cease to exist with you."_

The Naaru continued quietly.

"_The Light does not often interfere directly in the fates of mortals. You are given this choice only once. Make it wisely."_

Corveau understood the purpose of this Naaru now. Slowly he turned to look at Kalunaa. She looked so worried. Was it really that bad? Walking over to his body he ran his fingers over the bandage on his shoulder. He could feel the unevenness. He knew he could not look beneath them in this world, but he didn't need to. The pain must be unbearable.

He turned to his family. They looked comfortable. That sat with each other on a bench near a fountain that looked like it could have come from any corner in Silvermoon.

Home…with his family.

Slowly he walked to Kalunaa. He knew she could not see him. His companion was…strange. She was friendly at heart, but he knew she could be cold to those on the wrong end of her sword. She looked his age, but he could see scars peeking out from the edges of her armor that told of a life of much more hardship than he had ever known.

Was this what the Naaru spoke of?

And yet, as he watched her, he couldn't help but notice that she looked content. Worried for him in that moment, saddened by his injuries, but deeper down, she looked happy with the life she had. She always had. The way she fought, the way she flew on her mount, even the way she handled simple things like traveling from city to city, things that an inexperienced adventurer would be in awe over told him that she was comfortable with her life.

Could that really be him one day?

Corveau was not a skilled Paladin. He thought back to yesterday, when the gnolls had attacked. Kalunaa had been off of her mount and defending in a heartbeat. He had sat there yelling for her, confused. She wore armor that was crafted for her out of Saronite – the strongest metal Northrend had to offer. It was lined with fur and bore the sanctified Ymirjar markings of a fighter from Icecrown.

His armor had been pathetic even before it was destroyed. His bracers were oversized and his boots didn't match. His leg plates were too small and he didn't even have a belt. His chest piece had been made out of leather!

He thought inwardly about the path he would take to become a true Paladin, and he knew it would not be easy. He didn't know where he would start, or how he would get there. He did know he did not belong in the storm peaks. He would not quit on the Mage. They would find him, and if the man was alive they would rescue him, but he would never so carelessly wander into danger again.

Looking at the Naaru he made up his mind. His face set, he knew the being of light understood his thoughts as darkness crept up on him again.

"_The Light will be with you always, Paladin…"_

With a gasp of air, Corveau shot awake. Kalunaa was to him in an instant, a hand on his uninjured shoulder to keep him from rising.

"Stay. You are not well enough to get up yet."

He laid back and tried to think, but found his mind scrambled. Where was he? What had happened? With a flash his memories returned. He remembered falling from the hippogryph, and the exhaustion from shielding himself and Kalunaa from the fall. It had nearly taken all his strength just to do that. He remembered turning to see the Proto-drake bearing down on him, and flying through the air after it hit him. He remembered the weight of the claw, and seeing his shoulder pierced and bloodied. And he remembered thinking the last thing he would see in this life was the gaping maw of a hungry wrym as its jaw clamped down on him, just before he blacked out.

He turned to look at his surroundings. They were in a cave. There was a small fire going and the storm outside had died out almost completely. Against Kalunaa's protests, he sat up to look at his injuries. His leg was covered in bandages as was almost his entire upper body. His hand found its way to his shoulder, but what he felt surprised him. There was no hole. No painful shock at his touch.

Cautiously, he unwrapped the bandage and looked at the wound. In place of where the claw had previously penetrated, there was no gruesome injury, but rather a freshly healed shoulder and a clear, circular scar. Running his hand over it he tested it carefully and deciding that it was truly healed, he gambled a small shift in his arm.

He thought back to the words of the Naaru.

"_The Light will be with you always, Paladin."_

He understood now. Quickly he unwrapped his leg to find that it now bore several long, telling scars, but no remaining injuries. The light had returned him to the world with its blessing. There would be pain, but not from these injuries. From battles in the future that he would wage perhaps, but his past was no longer a part of his path forward.

Kalunaa sat quietly watching Corveau's exploration of his redeemed body. In her time she had seen many strange things, but never had such gruesome injuries healed by themselves. This was the Light's doing, that much she knew. Something new stirred in this Paladin now. In time she knew she would find out, but she suspected his days of clumsiness were behind him.

The Light always had confused her.

Looking out of the mouth of the cave for the first time, she saw the grandeur of the Storm Peaks in its entirety. The storm had completely passed, and in its wake it left snow covering every hill and mountain. The temples shown clearly atop the rocky spires in all directions, and the clouds shifted calmly between them. Far to the west – farther than she would have imagined they traveled in their haste – the wings of the remaining Proto-Drakes flapped around their nests. They would no longer bother the pair.

This was the land of the titans.

Turning her gaze back to Corveau she wondered where to begin. She had many things to ask about his miraculous return. Perhaps they still had some time to rest before their journey continued.

* * *

**A/N:**

To clear up a few things - Obviously, this was from Corveau's point of view. That's why some of the facts he states might not line up with reality (Tirion Fordring and his "unknown" ally). Also I may have taken some liberties with A'dal's role in the Burning Crusade storylines. I don't remember exactly how they went.


	7. The Engine of the Makers

**Warriors and Paladins**

The wind whistled quietly as the two Elves sat near the fire in their small cave, discussing their adventure so far. Corveau had been unconscious for two full days, and had been resting for another full day after waking up. Kalunaa had dutifully watched over him, unable to imagine the guilt that would overtake her if he died as a result of her facilitating his trip to this dangerous land.

During the time he was asleep, she had changed his bandages and tried to make him comfortable near the heat. She had also tried to repair his armor – having some skill as a blacksmith – but the remaining scraps and jagged pieces of metal were almost fully beyond repair, even if she did have the necessary tools. It was all she could do to gather fur from some nearby Rhinos which would have to keep him warm.

The two were in the Foot Steppes. North of them was their destination – the Engine of the Makers. Just farther North of that was the next stop they would be making. It was an old crash site, where the Horde had tried to fly a Zepplin through the mountains in their initial push into Northrend just over two years earlier.

When the battle for Ulduar was raging, they had repurposed it into a supply station for fighters to stop off at. Since the battle had ended, it had remained as a small outpost, secluded from the rest of the world. It was mostly where members of the Horde were sent when they were being disciplined. It would have very little, but there was a good chance they would at least have some armor. Kalunaa was determined to outfit Corveau to at least give him some degree of protection.

Corveau stood and began to walk off the stiffness he felt from three days of sitting in the cramped cave. They were both getting restless. Watching him walk, she gauged his mobility and recovery. With each step he shook off more of the rigidness and returned closer to his normal self. His leg was fully healed, as was his shoulder and Kalunaa decided it was time for them to move.

Rising, she collected the furs and handed them to the Paladin.

"Here. These won't protect you any more than your old armor did, but they will keep you warm."

His eyes grew large and his face looked thankful as he began to equip them.

"These are great. It will be nice to not be so cold anymore."

She gave a weak smile. She should have gotten him some better armor at K3. Then maybe they wouldn't be in this position in the first place.

"We will have to equip you in something more protective before long, but the journey to the Engine is not far, and the skies are clear of drakes. They will do for now."

The furs fit him loosely. She didn't have the tools available to turn them into decent armor, but she had salvaged some of the cords and straps from his old gear, and it had been enough. As they left the cave she turned to it for one last look. Her thoughts strayed back to when they had arrived. It was nothing more than a simple cave to him, but to her it held its own memories.

It was here that she had caught up to the Iron Dwarf tracker, slain him, and recovered the Titan device that would put her in touch with Brann Bronzebeard, and on the path to Ulduar. She had been a simpler Warrior then. That was before the Old God and Algalon. Before Icecrown and Arthas. She was a new Elf after her Northrend campaign, not much older in age, but more mature, more in tune with the dangers and pain of the world, but also of the triumph and justice of it. And it had all started there, at the cave.

Corveau had the mounts ready. The storm that had belted the majority of the continent for the past week had subsided, and so he was back on his own Dragonhawk, and her Hippogryph found its load quite lighter.

"Are you ok, Kalunaa?"

Corveau wondered if something was wrong. She had been staring into the cave for some time, lost in thought.

"Sorry. Yes. Let's go."

Instantly she snapped back to reality, and with a kick of her boot lifted into the air and off into the sky. Corveau was not far behind her. His stomach turned at the sensation but he set his brow. He was a new Paladin. He would overcome many things in his life, and he would start with this. He refused to close his eyes, watching the snow drifts fly beneath them and the trees grow smaller and smaller.

"Urgh…"

Perhaps it would take some time.

Kalunaa didn't need to glance back to know what the sound was. If they weren't so close already, she would have landed them and switched to the ground mounts since he was probably not fully recovered yet. As she had the thought, a gaping hole emerged from the snow.

The Engine of the Makers.

She had always found the sight incredible. It was as if the whole of Azeroth was one giant machine and in this single place, the cover was pulled back to reveal its cogs and inner workings. For the Titans, nothing short of mesmerizing would suffice.

Scanning the surrounding area, it didn't take long for her to spot who they were after.

Creteus was a large stone construct built by the Titans. She had never known his purpose, but he had always been here, at the Engine, or very nearby. She wondered if he knew anything about it. He had to, surely.

Circling closer to the ground, she watched him walk. Each step was slow, and casual. He seemed focused on his stroll. She wondered what he was thinking, or if in fact he could think. He was a construct – a stone. He had been animated for a purpose, but whether that meant he had sentient thought or was simply "preprogrammed" she did not know. Whatever he was, she had always thought he looked very lonely.

The Hippogryph landed with a thud, and ever so slowly, Creteus turned his head to look at them. When he spoke, his voice carried deeply and the sound seemed as if the mountains themselves were speaking to them.

"Who goes there?"

Kalunaa approached him slowly. She had battled constructs before in Ulduar, and it was not pleasant. She didn't know if Creteus was aggressive or not, but she didn't want to test it.

"We are Elves, from Dalaran."

Creteus seemed intrigued.

"What is your purpose here? The Engine of the Makers is not a place for mortal feet to enter."

Kalunaa shook her head and watched his reaction carefully.

"We are not here to venture into the Engine. We have come to speak to you, Creteus."

The construct took a step forwards and kneeled down, so that he could see her at eye level.

"It has been a long time since a mortal came to see me, little Elf. The last one to do so was a young dwarf. I fear he has forgotten me now."

Inwardly, Kalunaa wondered if it could have been the very same dwarf that she knew.

"We wish to know about a Mage. He traveled North through here some time ago and we seek his whereabouts."

Creteus cracked a small, stoney smile.

"I know the mage you speak of. He was here before the storm. He seemed afraid. He would not speak when I came to him, but only turned to run."

Kalunaa gave a relieved sigh. They finally had a trace of him.

"Can you tell us where he went? His family misses him." She asked purposefully.

Creteus hesitated as his smile faded.

"This mage ran, yes, but he did not get far. I could have protected him if he had stayed."

Kalunaa's own smile began to fade.

"Protected him from what?"

Creteus sighed. "The Iron Dwarves. I do not know why they chased this man so furiously, but they overtook him with ease. Once he was captured they retreated to the East with him, through the mountains."

Kalunaa turned to Corveau with a worried look before Creteus continued.

"When they took him he was alive. Whether he remains that way now, I cannot say."

On a hunch, Kalunaa pressed him for more.

"Are there many Iron Dwarves in the mountains?"

Creteus looked somewhat surprised at her question. "Yes Warrior, they inhabit the outer parts of Ulduar."

Kalunaa's heart almost stopped. Outer parts of Ulduar? That wasn't right. They had explored the entirety of that place years ago. They had destroyed the machine that Sjonnir the Ironshaper used to create the soldiers of iron deep within the Halls of Stone. Could they really have missed an entire part of the complex?

Corveau looked worried upon seeing her expression. Anything that had Kalunaa concerned was surely bad for them.

Kalunaa turned back to the construct.

"Thank you Creteus. If I ever see your dwarven friend again, I will tell him you are well."

Creteus cracked into a large smile, one she would not have imagined his stony face was capable of. Lifting up off his knee to his full height, his voice boomed with happiness at the mention of Brann.

"Thank you Warrior. Good luck in your journey."

For the first time in as long as she could remember, she felt like luck may very well be what they needed. The trip north, to the crash site was quiet. It was close by; the Engine was still visible even. They arrived to find a collection of Orcs and Goblins sitting around a fire.

The "outpost" was nothing more than the top half of the wrecked Zepplin that had been sheared off in the crash, moved to form a makeshift shelter. A collection of supply boxes were stacked near an anvil and a forge, and on the side of one of them was a number of scratch marks that undoubtedly counted the number of days this particular team had been serving their punishment.

"Well here's a surprise" said one of the Orcs, rising from the fire. "What are a Warrior and a teddy bear doing all the way up here?" At the mention of his furs, Corveau shifted uncomfortably.

Kalunaa decided she still owed him for the pickup line. "He's a night light, for your information. And we're looking for armor." The Orc turned sour. "So you're not here to relieve us?"

Kalunaa gave a laugh. "No. We aren't here to relieve you."

The group gave a collective sigh and turned back to the fire. A large Tauren stood up and moved to the boxes. "What are you after?"

She turned to Corveau as if to verify that he had not magically procured any replacement pieces. "My friend here needs a set of replacement armor. Plate."

After a few minutes of digging, the Tauren came up with some pieces. They didn't exactly match, and they were relatively barebones, but set was infinitely better than what he had been wearing before. She handed him a bag of gold and took the armor over to the anvil. The armor was in good condition at least. No repairs would be needed.

Still, she set to work making her adjustments to it. Corveau was unbundled from his furs one by one, and instead they were used to line the inside of the plate. She helped him fit the pieces correctly and by the time they were done, he somewhat resembled a Paladin again.

As he turned his body and tested the flexibility in his new armor, she was reminded of the first time she had tried on a set of armor. It was back in Silvermoon, just after it was decided that she would become a rogue by her father. She would sneak out at night to a waterfall with a small cave behind it, by a nearby lake. In it, she had hidden her armor. It was weak, and practically useless in battle, but it felt right. More right than leather and daggers. She had known then that she would not become a rogue.

And so, they finished their task. With the news of the Iron Dwarves, their adventure had taken an entirely new twist. It would require planning, and they would need to be careful about it.

But first, she thought as she cracked open another supply crate, while they were by the fire it required something else. Digging out a small packet she gathered some snow into a nearby container and heated it over the fire. When it was boiling she brought the packet to join with it, and took a sip of her favorite warm beverage.

Yes, if they were going to fight the Iron Dwarves in Ulduar, she would need her Honeymint Tea.

* * *

**A/N:**

I generally let each chapter sit overnight before I post it so that I can reread it with a fresh mind before it goes up. As I go back over some of the latest stuff and compare it to the first few chapters, I'm noticing a clear shift in my writing style. I may go back and rewrite some of the other ones to reflect that, not to change the story but just to make them more interesting. /shrug

Anyways, thanks to everyone who has read it, if you enjoy it, please review and let me know! And thanks to MoeMarrow for your great reviews. It's very cool to know someone is enjoying reading this as much as I am writing it.


	8. Ulduar

**Warriors and Paladins**

It was early, and Kalunaa was up before the sun was. It had been a long time before she had stepped through her pre-battle routine. It was more superstition than actual preparation, she knew that, but it had not failed her yet.

She began by cleaning every piece of her armor. It had been a few days since she had taken it off, and the cold air felt refreshing against her skin, even as it mixed with the heat from the fire. The rest of the camp was sleeping but that didn't bother her – she preferred to be alone before a fight.

Carefully she gathered her shoulder plates. She would start with them. There was a large smear of blood spattered over the left one, probably from Corveau as she had carried him. Gently she gathered some snow into her hand and pressed it to the cold metal. As she worked, her mind ran through her previous battles. The last time she had been to Ulduar, her and her allies had faced down the fabled Titan Keepers, followed by an Old God, followed by Algalon, Herald of the Titans themselves. They had cleansed its corruption then. She knew that it was true. If they hadn't, the world would have discovered their failure long ago.

And yet here she sat, preparing to do battle in the giant complex once again. She knew that this time, the fate of the world did not hang in the balance. Just the fate of an unfortunate Mage, but she also knew that he would be counting on them, even if he did not know it. This was not a battle against Gnolls or a hungry Proto Drake. The Iron Dwarves were a small army in their own right. They had been devastated after Ulduar – their leadership council slain, and their numbers thinned by the masses – but if the Horde had truly missed an entire pocket of them, they would have had plenty of time to regroup, and plenty of reason to hate invaders.

Setting her shoulder plates aside, she moved on to the next piece, her boots.

She eyed them carefully. These were not as bloodstained as the shoulders. Still, the routine was not about cleaning as much as it was simply carrying out the act. She gathered more snow.

Her mind drifted away from the dwarves. Ulduar was big, she knew that. The main complex was situated on a piece of land separated from the rest of the Storm Peaks by a gaping chasm so deep that you could not see to the bottom. But there was no doubt that it had buildings on the main continent too. Each structure was monolithic. If the Titan Constructs were large, the Titans themselves would have been gargantuan. She wondered if they had really walked the Storm Peaks in the past. Any one of the gigantic buildings could have held a small force of the dwarves hidden away from the fight.

As she moved from piece to piece she continued her thoughts. She replayed each detail of her Ulduar adventure over, smiling at the humor that she had found in working with Brann's dwarves, and cringing at the memories of her and her comrades bloodied and beaten. Most of all however, she felt pride at what they had accomplished. The battle with Algalon was nothing like she could have ever imagined had she not been there herself.

She moved to her weapon. It was a gigantic sword. It had seen enemies cleaved wholly in half, had blocked countless strikes, and had been with her for ages. It was weathered and old, but she knew it was sturdy. Many times she had turned down the chance for a replacement.

This was the sword that had plunged into Yogg-Saron's gaping maw at his final maniacal laugh to end his corruption. This was the sword that had struck the fatal blow to Arthas atop the Frozen Throne in Icecrown Citadel. This was the sword that had freed Tirion Fordring from the ice afterwards. It would stay with her always.

Her armor clean, she proceeded to dress slowly. She took the time to capture the warmth of the fire between her body and the armor's fur lining. With each piece that slid on, she felt more and more fortified, not just in body but in spirit as well. She was not an Elf who wore dresses and pretty clothes. Kalunaa was a Warrior, and her attire was plate. The touch of it to her skin attuned her body with it, and gave her unparalleled command over her defenses and her attacks.

She turned to the horizon. The sun was rising. Corveau would join it soon, and they would be off. She would have to handle the last part of her preparation quickly.

Striding down the slope of the mountain a short distance she found a small rocky cliff. It was serene, and would provide her with enough solitude to think uninterrupted. She planted her sword firmly in the ground and listened carefully as the snow crunched under her with each step. Kneeling down she closed her eyes.

Tracing a hand along the snow, she thought back to her time as a child, to the Farstrider Lodge. That was where she had begun her journey.

* * *

"_Kalunaa! Where have you been all day?"_

_Kalunaa hid her face._

"_I was at the lake Father."_

_Her father gave a soft smile. Like any parent he knew his daughter well. Even if she had not been so young, he would have seen through her veiled answer. He strode over and sat down in a chair nearby._

"_What was at the lake, dear?"_

_Like a fly caught in a web she scrambled mentally to piece together a story._

"_I was practicing with my daggers, learning to throw them." She seemed happy with herself for coming up with the answer. Her father smirked slightly._

"_Oh? Let's see what you've learned then!" He stood up and picked up an old vase, placing it on the table._

"_Th- that's Mother's vase! I can't break it!" Kalunaa was panicking. Inwardly, her father felt a small sense of satisfaction. He loved his daughter very much, but that did not keep him from teaching her the proper lessons when they were needed._

"_Nonsense dear, let's see!" He handed her the small dagger. It was unlikely she could have broken the vase even if she did hit it, but that became moot as throw after throw sailed wide. Each one more frustrating than the last until, distraught, she collapsed into the chair and buried her face in her hands._

_Her father placed a hand under her chin, lifting her head to see his face._

"_Kalunaa, why have you lied to me?"_

_She looked at him sadly. He looked so disappointed. She hated that look. But she knew she could not deceive him forever. She would not be a Rogue. She would be a Warrior. That choice was made for her by fate long ago. Her father would know eventually, one way or another._

"_I'm not a Rogue." Her face trailed down again._

_Truthfully, her father had known Kalunaa was not a rogue perhaps even before she. He had not pushed her to become a Rogue so that she would do so. Too many young girls in Silvermoon simply wasted away, working in shops or being housewives, waiting for someone of nobility to collect them to live out their lives in sadness – comfort, but unfulfilled promise and sadness. Kalunaa was not going to be such a story. He would see to that. She would learn to work hard, and be forced into a life she did not want at a young age, so that when her time came to choose her own path she would know the joy of a life she did want._

"_I know that little one." He stated matter of factly. Kalunaa looked up at him in shock. How could he know? She had been so careful to hide her armor…_

"_The path of a Rogue was never truly yours Kalunaa. You were not in training to learn that trade."_

_She looked confused. "Why did you make me go then?"_

_He smiled at her. "In time you will answer that question yourself. Tell me, what is it that you want to do?"_

_Her eyes drifted away as she dreamed of fighting monsters in her heavy plate armor, sweating blood and tears in order to stand victoriously atop her enemies, hoisting her massive sword high for all to see. Was he giving her the chance now? The thought that her desires could be so close was tantalizing._

"_I want to be a Warrior, father." _

_He knew her passion from that one sentence. She said it not with her mind but with her heart. The words flowed from her tongue as if she could taste their sweetness. He knew then that his daughter would become one of the finest Warriors that Silvermoon would produce. She would allow herself nothing less._

"_Then be a Warrior, child." Her eyes shot up to meet his as she looked for any sign of deception. This was what she had wanted for so long. Her father moved from his chair to kneel before her, looking into her eyes. His voice merely above a whisper, he spoke words that she would carry with her forever. _

"_Kalunaa, I love you very much. Promise me that wherever your journey takes you, whatever victory or defeat you may suffer, you will always remember who you are and why you are a warrior. Remember the passion you hold before every battle you fight and let it guide your sword. Remember that you are a Warrior not because you chose the class, but because it chose you, and that as long as you trust yourself there is no battle you cannot win."_

_The young Elf set her gaze on her father, etching the words into her heart. She would remember them always, thinking of them every day before she set out to train. They gave her a strength that she did not understand, but she trusted their power and for that she would recite them in her mind before every battle._

* * *

Kalunaa rose from the snow. She felt a rush that she had not known in a very long time. Her armor felt like her skin, her sword an extension of her hands. This was what it meant to be attuned to herself. Pulling her sword from the ground, she turned and retreated to the camp. Corveau was up, and had dressed in his new armor. It was made from cobalt and held a hint of blue in its metallic folds. Somehow, it was fitting for a Holy Paladin.

"Where have you been?" He asked curiously.

She said nothing, but spared him a glance that told him he would not get an answer. Gathering her things, she turned to see that he was ready to go as well.

"Creteus spoke of a camp of dwarves to the east, atop the mountains. This will be a dangerous day Corveau. You will need to conserve your strength in battle and use it to heal us." The gravity of her words came to him as he understood. Today he would face battle. Not a fight in a bar or with a wild creature, but true battle against coherent foes. It was exhilarating.

As they set off from the camp, he felt something was off. Looking around as they flew, he couldn't quite place it. It wasn't bad, but it was unusual. Watching the snow trail beneath them, he turned to look at the Engine of the Makers. It was fading into the distance now. He hadn't gotten a very good look at it yesterday due to his inability to cope with flying, but – wait; that was it! His head shot around as he watched his surroundings blaze past them. He was flying! And he wasn't even sick!

Perhaps he had truly overcome. Or perhaps the adrenaline of his first battle was overpowering his instincts. Whatever it was, he liked it. The world looked different from above - beautiful, but so much smaller. He had never seen it like this before.

Smiling to himself he relaxed as their trip up the mountain carried on for another hour. It wasn't until he saw his companion start to dip, indicating her landing that he began to feel his nervousness. What was battle like? Would he be killed? Would he have to kill? He looked at the confidence that Kalunaa held in her face and wondered how she could be so sure of herself.

As they landed with a thud, the pair scanned their surroundings. Kalunaa had never seen this part of Ulduar before. They were atop a large plateau, at the bottom of a hill. There was a sound coming from just beyond it. She couldn't place it, though she knew she had heard it before. Dismounting, they moved up the hill. As they came to the top the sound became clearer, and just as the giant terrace came into view her eyes confirmed what her ears had begun to suspect.

A battle was already raging.

Iron Dwarves fought Earthen Dwarves fiercely. With each slash of their axes, one Earthen would crumble to dust as another rose, just before a giant tunneling machine would deliver more iron soldiers to the battlefield. On both sides giant constructs of Earth and Iron battled for supremacy over large swaths of the area. Grunts of pain met shouts of triumph, heard from all around. The dwarves were locked in an endless battle.

Kalunaa felt surprise – she had not expected this – but it made no difference as she drew her sword. Scanning the battlefield she saw her target. He was an over sized Iron Dwarf, sitting back from the battle. He was flanked on either side by two other onyx colored dwarves, and behind him sat an iron behemoth. This was their field commander. He would set them on the path to the Mage.

Turning to Corveau her expression chilled him to the bone. He was frightened, not because he thought she might turn on him, but because he had never seen her like this before. Her heart held no mercy today. Those who got in her way would be cut down without a second thought. He was glad she was on his side. Setting his mind, he nodded to her before issuing a prayer to the light. On command, a faint glow surrounded them both. Nodding to her, he set his sword against his shield and readied himself to charge.

And with that, they roared down the hill to join the battle.

* * *

**A/N:**

Fun Fact: I just found Huggalon the Heart Watcher in game. Check him out on WoWhead. He looks like Archavon from WoLK, but smaller, and he has a nice purple bow in his hair.


	9. Soldiers of Iron

**Warriors and Paladins**

The Iron Dwarf thrust his axe at his Earthen opponent violently. Though they were both Dwarves, neither felt anything other than hatred for the other. Over and over he swung, each time pausing briefly to parry the Earthen's own advances. Out of the corner of his eye he saw something that didn't belong. It registered as a minor anomaly at first, and the heat of the battle dictated that his attention be focused on the combatant directly opposite him for the time being. In time, the strangeness grew, in size and importance until he could no longer ignore it.

With a roar he threw his body towards his Earthen counterpart, knocking him to the ground. During his brief respite, the Iron Dwarf turned to look at what it was that was bearing down upon him. As he did, his face turned from anger and determination to shock and denial for the split second before Corveau's shield connected with his jaw, dropping him to the ground.

Turning to Kalunaa, the Paladin set his face and nodded. Their task would not be easy. The Iron Dwarf commander sat across the battlefield, guarded by his sentinels as he issued orders and called for reinforcements sent to the staging area via giant mole machines. Each one burst up from the ground, it's door flying open before it had even settled to spew forth more of the dark dwarves.

She spun to face down a charging dwarf, rolling aside as his massive mace came crashing down. It was a wild swing, and it left him exposed, a weakness Kalunaa quickly exploited to end the fight before it had really begun. Without even a pause she moved to the next dwarf, and then the next. Each one fell with ease, and as she advanced towards her target, Corveau fell in step behind her, fending off his own attackers defensively, but exerting himself more to heal the injured Earthen around him than for offensive combat.

Commander Rolgeit was not a pleasant dwarf. He did not suffer fools or Earthen well. The two figures moving slowly towards him were no Earthen, but they fought alongside them. No matter; It just made them fools. He would deal with them as he did the rest. He watched their advance until it became apparent that their paths would indeed cross. Muttering obscenities to himself over his useless soldiers, he turned to the large sentinel to his left. With a nod and a glance in the direction of the large elf, Rolgeit sat back and watched his protector work.

Kalunaa turned. Behind her lay a trail of dwarven corpses. She did not know why the Irons were fighting the Earthen, and she did not care, but she was slightly pleased to have turned the tide of battle so heavily in favor of the strange pale allies. She gave Corveau a knowing glance to which he closed his eyes and muttered a few brief words. A warm glow surrounded Kalunaa briefly, rejuvenating her and returning her strength. She turned back towards the commander. The two had locked eyes briefly a moment before and she knew that he was aware of their goal. With a slight smirk, she eyed the large runed sentinel that was now charging towards her. Finally, they were getting somewhere.

With a sickening thud, the iron giant plowed through dwarves on his pathway towards the elves. Iron and Earthen alike flew in all directions and Kalunaa set herself as the sentinel picked up speed. Lower and lower his shoulder went until they connected, sending them both spinning. Immediately she felt the glow of Corveau's healing and returned to her feet as he brought his heavy mace down where she had been moments before. He gave a cry and swung forward, sending her diving back. With a giant step he was upon her again, his heavy stone hand crashing into a nearby tree.

He brought his mace down and as Kalunaa jumped away, she was surprised to feel it clip her foot. The strike was blunted by the deflection, but it was enough to cost her the balance she had maintained so well. Tumbling to the snow, the dwarven sentinel was upon her in an instant. Pulling his mace high above his head, he swung down with all his might. Just in time, she grasped her sword in both hands, thrusting it upwards to meet his weapon and parry his blow. Furiously, he pulled back again and swung. Time and time again he tried to crush her, but her own strength blocked his mace each time. With each blow however, a little bit more of it gave way, and Corveau's healing could not keep up.

Tilting his head back in a roar of fury, the Iron Dwarf raised his foot to crush her beneath it. Seizing the instant, Kalunaa thrust her sword upwards and smiled as she saw it pierce through the top. His fury turned to pain as he stumbled backwards. In a flash she twisted on the ground, kicking his other foot out from beneath him. He fell to his hands and knees as she rolled to her feet and with a sense of finality swung her sword forward, sending the iron sentinel's head flying.

The commander watched and his rage grew with each step closer the elf took. His sentinel lay dead by her hands. He did not care for the dwarf. What was another's life to him? What enraged him was that someone _dared_ to defy him. He wanted her dead _now_. Why wasn't she? Turning to his right, he gave an enraged shout and with it, the second sentinel charged.

It met her halfway. The sentinels were strong, that Kalunaa had learned. Brute force had almost cost her dearly with the last one, this time she would use her size and mobility. And she would not waste time; she grew bored of the endless battle. The commander had what she wanted – the mage – and she would have him.

She planted her feet and lowered her shoulder, baiting the iron giant. He lifted his mace up, taking the trap and when he did, she took advantage to jump to the right. His mace came crashing down on nothingness, and he twisted to find her sword bearing down on him. With a slice his arm flew away and he stumbled backwards, crying in pain. Furiously he grabbed his weapon with his other arm, and swung with hatred. His new balance with the loss of his limb felt alien to him, and it showed with his careless blows. With each one he left himself exposed, and with each one Kalunaa landed another strike on him. Over time they accumulated, and he fell to his knees weakened. Staring at the ground, the shock he felt was not of surprise but one of a strange new feeling as her sword pierced his chest. With a grunt, he fell to the ground dead.

Seething, the commander watched the Elves approach. His battle was lost, and his sentinels lay dead. Yet for some reason he would not submit. This elf would die, he would see to it. If his soldiers and his protectors could not handle such a feeble looking warrior then so be it; he would kill her himself. Drawing his two axes, he crouched down and leapt towards her, landing next to her. They spared no time as they immediately engaged. Steel flashed against saronite as each parried the other's flurry of blows.

With a rush, he threw his weight against her. Momentarily off balance, she stumbled backwards, but with the awareness of a veteran she jumped aside as his axes sliced crossways through the air that had been hers a moment prior. Twisting with her momentum she brought her sword upwards, slicing through the middle of his axes and separating them. Her counter left him briefly stunned and she seized the moment to continue her strike, twisting one of the axes out of his hand and sending it flying.

The dwarf looked panicked all of a sudden. Corveau paced his steps and he slowly moved around behind the dwarf. He leveled his shield and focused on looking imposing. He could not fight the dwarf, he knew that. This battle was far beyond his skill. But he could distract him. He could make their foe focus on two opposite directions, and that was what he was going to do.

As the fight continued, the dwarf showed surprising resistance. He swung his remaining weapon and would immediately jump backwards, twisting to keep Corveau at bay before spinning back to parry Kalunaa. In time his disadvantage showed however. He focused too much on the Warrior. A single time, he forgot Corveau, and that was all it took.

With a strength he did not know he could muster, Corveau launched himself at the dwarf, thrusting his sword forward. Rolgeit's remaining axe fell to the ground as the Paladin's sword slid cleaning through the shoulder attached to his arm that had been clutching it just prior. Time seemed to stop as the Dwarf looked down, his mouth open. Jet black blood oozed from the wound and pain shot through his entire side. With a cruel finality that rivaled its entry, the sword disappeared as Corveau pulled it out. Rolgeit was tired, bloody, and he knew he was beaten.

Falling to the snow, he slumped back against the pedestal that had been his point of command earlier in the day. His mind went blank as his body began to process the pain and fatigue that he felt, all adrenaline draining quickly. With a jolt of agony, his attention shot to his pain as a plated boot pressed down on his pierced shoulder.

A giant sword pressed against his neck as if to impress upon him the importance of his next words.

"Can you understand me, Dwarf." The small female Elf held fury in her eyes.

With a look of his own hatred that matched hers, he nodded.

She wasted no time. "You kidnapped a man. A mage - where is he."

Rolgeit spit at her. Her boot pressed deeper into his shoulder, leaving him howling in pain.

"Show some use to me Dwarf, or the pain I give you will be the last thing you feel."

Rolgeit watched her face as her sword pressed harder into his throat. As if to cut his thoughts short, her boot was planted firmly against his shoulder again, causing it to throw. This was unbearable.

"Th-in th' tower." He gasped the words and tilted his head to his left. Kalunaa glanced up to see a small tower surrounded by runes. They were close.

"Where?" She spoke the word with determination.

"T-top." He could do little more than mutter the reply. Rolgeit closed his eyes. His mind saw only searing white pain. He knew he would pass out soon. Suddenly, the pressure on his shoulder relieved itself. Slowly his eyes creaked open to find the warrior had removed her foot. He looked up just in time to find that it was now sailing through the air before it connected with the side of his head, knocking him out cold.

Kalunaa turned from the dwarf. He was useless to her now. It had been the trace of mercy that had somehow snuck its way into her heart today that left him alive, but if he came to before they left and made a fatal mistake, she would not be so forgiving a second time.

She looked at the tower. It was small – merely three floors high. It had been built to hold prisoners, and held few furnishings on the outside, apart from the magical runes surrounding it. They would be there to prevent the prisoner inside from using magic. Convenient for the dwarves, she supposed.

Corveau strode aside her. "Let's go. We've come this far." His gaze was set. This mission seemed to hold a certain importance to him. Kalunaa had noticed his determination grow after the encounter with the proto-drake.

As they began to approach the tower she glanced around the battlefield. The Iron Dwarves were defeated. Their dead and injured littered the area and as those who could retreated, the Earthen collected their own casualties and spread the remaining soldiers over the terrace to claim it.

A small group of them had watched her encounter with the commander. As the two elves moved away from him, the Earthen forces collapsed on where he lay. She did not know what would happen to him, and she did not care. There was still an element of mystery to this mage and the answer to it all lay before her.

It was time to finish this.

**A/N:**

I have the flu. That's why there hasn't been (and probably won't be) frequent updates the last/next few days like before. I wanted to get this chapter done, but it's highly likely I'll revisit it as soon as my mind isn't as scrambled again. Until then, sit tight. It's almost done!


	10. The Mage

**Warriors and Paladins**

The small tower was surprisingly just as cold inside as outside. A quick glance around told Kalunaa that they would not be facing any more Iron Dwarves here. There were chairs toppled over near a table with a half eaten meal on it, a sign of the rush that had come following the earthen attack. The pieces of armor and weapons strewn about where the guards had picked only the necessary gear to survive in their haste were telling for Corveau, as if he could pull back the curtains and examine the missteps that led to the ultimate outcome of the Iron Dwarves loss, but Kalunaa seemed disinterested. He understood why. This mage had been the cause of much trouble for them, and she wanted to be done with him.

She moved up the stairs that circled around and around the inside of the tower, making her way up to the top. Corveau sensed something, an arcane presence but Kalunaa showed no signs of recognizing it. He assumed that Warriors didn't have the same natural affinity for sensing magic that the other callings did. Still, something about it made him uncomfortable.

As they gradually ascended, their surroundings grew darker and darker. They arrived at the top and found a single doorway. How they saw it was a perplexing question that didn't go unnoticed, but Kalunaa put it out of her mind to focus on _finally _ending this quest.

As if in slow motion, Kalunaa reached out to push the door open. Corveau was on edge by now. He wanted to stop her, to scream at her, plead with her not to. Something was not right, and whatever was causing it was on the other side of that door. The mage was not alone.

"Kal wai-"

With a crash the door splintered as a huge arm – no, Corveau thought…_was that a tentacle?_ – came crashing through it. Kalunaa flew backwards to the far wall, crashing into it and splitting a nearby table in half.

Corveau searched the darkness around him but there was nothing. Even the tower itself seemed to disappear, leaving him standing alone with nothing but shadows nearby, as the huge tentacle crashed down again, this time inches away from where he stood. Jumping back his mind raced to decide his next move. He pulled out his shield and searched for Kalunaa – if he could just see her, he could heal her.

His companion was not so far away, though she was bloodied and confused. Silently she berated herself for her foolishness. In her haste to be done with this business, she had walked them both directly into a trap. She tried to quickly assess her situation. The left half of her face was covered in blood. Her hand was easily broken where it had been near the door, and a piece of the broken table pierced her abdomen on the side. It had missed everything vital – it wouldn't kill her, but it would be painful. She had to find Corveau.

Crawling to her feet she tried to duck down in the darkness to avoid her assailant, but each step she took brought the huge tentacle crashing back down near her. Whatever this thing was, it had the advantage of seeing them in the shadows. So be it.

She brought out her sword and readied herself for the next assault. She held it weakly, her good hand crippled, but readied herself for what would probably be her only chance. As soon as it came she drove the blade home, slicing the huge tentacle down the middle. As it separated, it spurted black oozing blood and flopped around for a few moments before becoming still, but her victory was short lived as another tentacle blasted through the doorway to resume where its counterpart had left off.

Corveau was freezing up. He felt helpless. He had been in combat before, even today – they had just finished a battle – but he had always had Kalunaa by his side. She gave him confidence. Now she was gone.

"_Think, damnit"_ Corveau franticly ran the scene through his head. She couldn't be gone. They had been standing next to each other moments ago. The room was small. She was there, she had to be. Within arm's reach even. The thought comforted him more than he expected and he steeled himself for the next move. It would no doubt draw the attention of whatever this thing was, but it would also break this illusion – he recognized the darkness for what it was now – and give them a chance.

Gathering his strength, he shouted a prayer to the light before unleashing his holy radiance. Like ice melting near fire, the shadows dissipated in an instant. Kalunaa stood facing him and a grin formed as she realized his move. In an instant the newest tentacle was no more as her sword slashed down, and when it was not replaced they pushed their way through the door. What they saw quickly dispersed any feelings of victory.

A towering creature, one that Kalunaa recognized from her adventures in Ulduar, but Corveau had only heard tales about stood before them, nearly as high as the ceiling, and it looked fierce. To his horror, he saw that it had no face. Corveau never thought he would see a Faceless One in person, but he understood now that all the stories had been true. It evoked fear and darkness simply by being in its presence. It was disgusting, but it also looked terrifyingly brutal.

In the center of the room, the mage was floating unconscious. The beast was channeling something, and streams of arcane energy flowed from the mage to its snout. It was siphoning off his energy.

With a few quick words, Kalunaa's wounds disappeared and she nodded in thanks to the Paladin before charging towards their new enemy. Her sword crashed down upon the long appendage that draped down where its face should have been, and instantly its concentration was broken. The mage fell to the ground as the beast roared, bringing its arms crashing around the room in fury. With one giant step, it bounded over its former captive towards Kalunaa, and Corveau seized the chance to pull him aside to safety. A quick glance revealed he was unharmed, physically at least, though unconscious.

Kalunaa dodged to the side as the Faceless One crashed into the wall behind her. Rising up again it began speaking in a language neither of them knew, but as it did the darkness began to return. Without hesitation, Kalunaa jumped on it, pummeling its eyes. With a screech of pain it twisted around and again with his concentration broken the spell was interrupted and the shadows faded. As it twisted, Kalunaa threw herself onto its back, plunging her sword through the beast's side. As another cry was let out, it turned frantically to throw her off with a strength that surprised her. She tumbled to the side and looked up in time to see a huge arm being brought above her for a crushing blow, but just before he could bring it down an enormous hammer of light came crashing down upon the horror's head, stunning him.

Seizing her chance, Kalunaa brought her sword slicing upwards and with one furious cut, the faceless horror fell to the ground dead, split cleanly in half up to his chest. As its black blood oozed out onto the ground, she turned to see Corveau standing over the mage protectively, grinning in triumph. Kalunaa couldn't help but return the smile. She had walked them into this and he had saved the day. It wasn't the first time either, she thought, recalling the proto-drake attack. As she caught her breath, she took in just how far her companion had come for a brief moment before returning her mind to the task at hand.

Motioning to the mage she knelt down beside him. "How is he?" Corveau glanced down at him. "Alive and unharmed." Even as he spoke the man began to stir. Slowly his eyes crept open. "Wha- who are you?"

Corveau knelt beside his companion. "We are friends, sent by the Kirin Tor. You are safe now." He gave the man a slight smile which went all but unnoticed as the mage promptly rolled and threw up. Corveau grimaced. "Am I to take it then that you don't like us?" Kalunaa snickered at her friend's words; halfway enjoying the mage's current misfortune for all the trouble they had been through to find him.

She gave a few moments for Corveau to attend to him, and when the soft light began to die down the mage looked frail, but much better than before. She turned to him. "Why were you out here? A goblin said that you were chasing a lead on Iron Dwarves for the Kirin Tor, but I don't believe that was the truth."

The man looked away sheepishly. "It wasn't entirely false. I am a member of the Kirin Tor. But I was not entirely truthful either." He glanced down sadly. "I heard of some relics here from Ulduar which had titan inscriptions on them. I thought maybe I would be able to glean some research or arcane power from them."

Kalunaa waited for him to continue. Again, the mage looked away. "I found the relics. The mountain dwarves that live in Frosthold have an abundance of them." Kalunaa raised an eyebrow curiously. "What did you get out of them?" She asked. The mage sighed and reached into his robes, pulling out a small flask. "A small amount of alcohol - the relics are worthless. The dwarves use them as currency. I was able to get a meal and a drink, but little more. All this was a waste, and to make it worse it ended up dragging the two of you into things."

Standing back up she turned to Corveau and made a face that told him exactly how displeased she was before turning back to the mage. "Are you strong enough to make a portal? Your family is waiting in Dalaran." At her words the mage perked up, and a grin overtook his face. "Yes, I am. It won't last long – my strength is mostly gone, but I can get all of us through it quickly."

Motioning for her and Corvea to step aside, he began to trace runes on the floor. Every so often he would be forced to stop, and when he did Corveau was at his side in an instant to heal him again, but eventually the task was complete. With a few final words a bright glowing sphere appeared in the middle of the runes.

"Come on Corveau, let's go home." Kalunaa put a hand on her friend's shoulder.

Corveau nodded but stepped to a nearby window briefly. It had been an amazing journey. He never would have imagined that place like the Storm Peaks existed. It was majestic. The land itself seemed almost proud of its titan heritage – those who took it, or the dangers it held for granted met a swift demise. He gazed out at the world that was starkly different from the one they had arrived to, encased in an icy blizzard. He had much to think about, and much to talk to Kalunaa about, but she was right – their time here was at an end.

Glancing at them, he took a step forward and an instant later met the warm purple glow of Dalaran. A brief moment later Kalunaa followed behind him with the mage, his arm draped over her shoulder for support.

Corveau followed them out into the street where he stopped. "You two go ahead – I'll catch up."

Kalunaa nodded and moved off, following the mage's instructions to get him home. Corveau turned towards the landing and briefly scanned for the person he wanted. Spotting her, he approached with a large grin on his face.

"Hello. My name is Corveau, and I'd like to ask you something."

* * *

**A/N:**

I'm still alive – a couple thoughts:

First, thanks to everyone who's read this. It's nearing 700 views, which is so much more than I expected for a first story. It's amazing to see so many people checking it out. I hope you're all enjoying it.

Second, for those following it, sorry it took so long to update. I had a nasty combination of illness, work, holidays, and writers block that simply made writing impossible.

Finally, it's almost done. I think there are probably one, maybe two more chapters to go. I rewrote this chapter after having it done to add in another fight, but I didn't want to make it a huge epic battle, so I hope I found a nice balance and it doesn't come off as rambling.


	11. The End

**Warriors and Paladins**

It was a quick reunion when the man returned to his family. A small woman who looked like she had aged a hundred years in a few weeks came running out of their home just outside the Eventide in Dalaran, and she carried with her a little girl who promptly screamed in happiness and pounced on her father. Kalunaa smiled, and retreated to let the family have their privacy.

As she was turning to leave, she spotted Corveau approaching her. As he walked up to her, she noticed he looked excited about something.

"So what now?" Corveau asked. He had never finished an adventure before. He didn't know what to do. "What do you mean?" Kalunaa glanced at him inquisitively. "Well, we're done right? What do you usually do after a quest?" Corveau almost felt silly asking. Kalunaa let out a small laugh and shook her head. "No, we're not done yet. Come with me." She grabbed his shoulder and pushed him down into the sewer, towards the small inn where the whole thing had begun.

Taking their seats at the bar she explained the final step in any adventure. "You're not done until you've had your drink." Ordering them a round of ale, their glasses met over the sound of their laughter and they each turned their drink up, chugging the entire thing. With a sense of finality, the mugs slammed down on the counter. "Now we're done." Kalunaa grinned happily. Naturally, it was her favorite part of any adventure.

"So what will you do now?" Corveau asked. Truthfully, he was sad that he would soon part ways with her. Kalunaa shrugged. "I don't know. Tonight it's a drink and a hot meal, but tomorrow is anyone's guess; I don't plan that far ahead." She paused thoughtfully. "I've heard rumors of a mess in Hyjal, perhaps I'll head there." She turned to the Paladin. "What about you?"

Corveau smiled. "I'm going to the Argent Tournament." Kalunaa raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure you understand how that works. You don't just decide to go." Corveau laughed. "No, but I spoke to a recruiter after we returned. I had seen her in Krasus' Landing before we left. It didn't strike me at the time, but when I was unconscious in the cave after the Proto-Drake attacked I had a vision of the life I could have adventuring. The Argent Tournament can teach me what I need to know."

As he spoke, the gravity of his commitment struck Kalunaa and she couldn't help but think back to her own image as a little girl, wearing her oversized plate armor and desperately wishing she was a real Warrior. This meant a lot to Corveau. Perhaps she would speak to Tirion about him.

She smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Good luck to you then Corveau. You'll do great there." He looked sheepishly into his mug. "I don't know. I want to learn but I'm still not very confident." He set his brow and looked up. "But I have to do this."

Rising from her chair she gave him a final pat on the back. "Find me when you're done at the Tournament." He nodded, and with that, she put a bag of gold on the counter and retired to her usual room, smiling to herself as she finally closed her eyes to rest. She had a feeling this would not be their last adventure together, but for now their story was at an end.

* * *

**A/N:**

That's the end of my first story! I don't know when/if I'll do another or what characters might be involved if I do. I'd like to do a very long one (~100k words) but that's a pretty huge thing.

Thanks to everyone who read this. It's been amazing to see so many views. I really hope you guys have enjoyed it. I've definitely learned quite a bit about the process and style of writing, so if I decide to do another one, hopefully it will only get better.

Cheers.


	12. Epilogue: The Argent Tournament

**Warriors and Paladins**

_Epilogue_

With each step, Corveau heard the crunch of snow beneath his feet. He moved swiftly, for one who was out of breath, striding towards the giant bone drake that had only moments before fallen by his hand. With a heavy thrust of his shield, he dislodged one of its rotted fangs and packed it away with the rest of the trophies he would need to prove his deeds for the day. Glancing at a nearby ice crystal he took a moment to admire his own reflection. He was hardly recognizable from what he had been a mere four months ago.

Upon gaining acceptance into the Argent Tournament, he was bestowed a new set of gear to replace the pieces Kalunaa had purchased for him in the Storm Peaks. It had made him sad for a strange reason he had never figured out to get rid of that set, but there was little argument against it – the new pieces were made of a stronger material; the Adamantite infused with bits of Saronite was colored in a beautiful red and gold color scheme that made the set as visually appealing as it was protective. Corveau was stunned to find the gift upon settling into the recruit's tent, and he wore it proudly.

With a swift jump he was atop his armored wyvern, and a short hour later he touched down at the Tournament, his daily work done. After a few brief conversations to collect his various rewards, he turned to retreat to his tent. He stepped inside and had hardly begun to remove his armor when he became aware something was amiss. Turning around, he saw a tall figure in the shadows.

"May I help you?" He made no attempt to hide his annoyance. The figure said nothing, but simply stepped forward. Any tension in the air dissipated immediately as the light began to reveal the soft face of his companion.

"Kalunaa!" He stepped forward, embracing her as if they had been friends forever. "Hello Corveau" she said with a laugh. "You look impressive!"

He turned slightly to hide the blush creeping across his face, opting for a new topic rather than a reply. "How have you been? I've been wondering what you were up to!"

Kalunaa smiled and pulled over a nearby chair, turning it backwards to sit with her arms resting upon the back of it as they spoke. "I've been well. After you left Dalaran I stayed behind for awhile to rest and relax, but before long I found more people seeking my assistance. There was the goblin engineer with the hatred for gnomes from the Borean Tundra. Then there was the Orc from the logging camp in Grizzly Hills. Oh, and more trolls in Zul'Drak. Nothing quite as exciting as our last little adventure, but it kept me busy at least. What about you? It looks like you've had quite the time up here yourself."

Corveau sat back in his own chair crossing his arms as he tilted his head upwards to think. "If only you knew! Highlord Fordring himself has been stopping by to see how I am progressing. It's rather dull at times; most of the daily work is cleaning out the scourge that didn't die off with the Lich King, or the Vrykul that dot the various cliffs. Occasionally a real challenge comes along – a frost wyrm or patchwork horror, but they're becoming increasingly rare. I suppose that's a good thing."

Kalunaa grinned and reached over to pat her friend on the back. "A bored adventurer is good news for the world." Corveau laughed and turned to her. "So what are you doing up here anyways?" She raised an eyebrow. "I'm looking for you, actually. I've heard that you're becoming quite the Paladin, and I find myself in need of just such a partner for an upcoming quest."

Corveau felt a rush of adrenaline at the thought of working with her again. "You mean you actually _want _me to come with you? You remember how useless I was last time?" Kalunaa laughed and waved her hand. "That was before your training. You can't sit in your tent forever Corveau."

He sat quietly for a moment, contemplating the thought. "I still have much to learn here. I'm not sure I'm ready yet." She leaned her head forward, resting her arms on the chair's back. "You said yourself it's getting rather dull around here. Get out in the world and put that training to use."

He gave her a hurtful look, trying to hide his smile. "Am I to understand then that this is an act of charity?" She laughed and said "Yes. And I might have enjoyed your company." She gave a dramatic sigh. "But I can see you are committed to your duties here. Ah well – perhaps another time." She said as she rose to go.

Corveau laughed and grabbed her arm, pulling her back into the chair. "Alright, you win." Kalunaa grinned. In truth it was decided the moment he saw her that he would be joining her, and they both knew it, but the routine provided them with a bit of humor. "What's the job, and where are we headed?"

She leaned in close with an excited smile, and Corveau could almost see the rush in her eyes as she whispered her reply.

"Have you ever heard of the Firelands?"

* * *

**A/N:**

That's really the end this time. I hadn't planned an epilogue but rereading things I didn't really like how it ended, so voiala. Thanks again to everyone who has read – 750 views now! Awesome for my first story. Please review, and let me know what you thought!


End file.
